


A Memory of a Time "Long" Gone

by absolute_hooligan



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Adult Eddie Kaspbrak, Adult Richie Tozier, Bisexual Richie Tozier, Derry (Stephen King) is Terrible, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, M/M, Memory Loss, Panic Attacks, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:01:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26714890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/absolute_hooligan/pseuds/absolute_hooligan
Summary: Eddie was impaled through the chest by Pennywise. The Losers (namely Richie) managed to pull him out of the collapsing Neilbolt home. He was rushed to the hospital, where he now lies awake. He's face to face with a man he can't remember... in fact, he can't remember anything.Excerpt:Eddie couldn’t remember anything. Nothing made sense anymore, and it scared the shit out of him. He woke up in the hospital of a town he supposedly grew up in. Thrown into a life he had no idea about, and that was terrifying.“Eds? How you feelin’?”“W-who… who are you?”
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	A Memory of a Time "Long" Gone

Eddie couldn’t remember anything. Nothing made sense anymore, and it scared the shit out of him. He woke up in the hospital of a town he _supposedly_ grew up in. Thrown into a life he had no idea about, and that was terrifying.

“Eds? How you feelin’?” A man with black curly hair looked at him from the chair at his bedside. He looked tired beyond belief, his stubble looked like it hadn’t been shaved in days. He was wearing a leather jacket, a yellow button up with orange crosses and a t-shirt resting underneath.

“W-who… who are you?” Eddie questioned, he could feel his voice shaking. But quite honestly, he felt like he was going to implode. So he figured it was a reasonable reaction.

The man looked sad, and to a lesser extent hurt, “ _Fuck_ …”, he pulled his thick rimmed glasses off and rubbed his eyes, “You still really don’t remember…”

“What do you mean?” Eddie questioned, “I-I’ve never met you… have I?”

The man chucked, no joy within it, “You’ve met me alright, annoyed the shit out of you when we were kids.”

Eddie tried to wrack his brain to remember this guy. Even if he was an adult now, it’s likely he didn’t look _too_ much different than when he was a kid. He felt like shit, he was obviously close to this guy if he was visiting the hospital.

The man straightened up a little, forcing himself to smile, “I’m Richie, Richie Tozier.”

_Richie… Richie? Why the hell is that so familiar?_

“God I’m-I’m sorry...” Eddie tried to lean up, wincing when his chest stung with white hot pain.

“Woah woah woah! Take it easy there man, you’re not healed all the way yet!” Richie had quickly abandoned his chair in favor of making sure Eddie was okay. 

“Shit, I don’t know who you are. _God_ i'm so sorry, I-” Eddie wanted to yell to the heavens but his body would kill him if he did.

“Hey, it’s alright… we’ve gotten through worse yeah?” Richie smiled, tentatively resting a hand on Eddie’s shoulder.

It then hit Eddie that he wanted to protect that smile. He wanted to be the one to cause it. He _wanted-_

“So, what can you remember? The doctors told me to ask after you woke up.” Richie pulled the leather chair to the rail on Eddie’s bed. 

_Fucking hate hospital beds… wait-what-_

“Well it just hit me that I hate this damn place.”

Richie laughed, “Don’t we all?”

“No, I don’t like hospitals, I don’t like being _here_.”

“Oh shit that’s actually good.” 

“What? The fact that I loathe my health and safety?” Eddie crossed his arms, “I’ll have you know that-”

Richie just started laughing, genuine, joyous laughter.

“What the fuck! What the hell are you laughing about?”

“Just… even when you don’t remember me, you still act like you always do,” Richie rested his arms on the rail, of which he then used to rest his chin, “Guess somethings can’t be changed can they?”

Eddie huffed, “I guess, but, as much as you being here means, I don’t have any clue what our relationship to each other is.”

Richie looked uneasy, as if he was trying to word his sentence correctly.

_His thinking face is… familiar?_

“I’m your best friend, well, one of them at least,” Richie explained, “We’ve been best friends since we were five man!”

“Holy shit that’s awesome! Wait, who are my other friends?” Eddie questioned, suddenly feeling far more happy than previously.

“ _Dude_ , the Losers Club! You got Billium, Bevadev, Benjaboy, Mikeyman-” Richie counted the members on his fingers.

“Their _actual_ names please?” Eddie sighed.

“What d’ya mean?” Richie deadpanned. Expression not faltering in the slightest.

“Fuck you.”

“Oh my sir!” Richie fanned himself with his hand, and imitated a southern bell, “Take me out to dinner first Edward!”

“Don’t call me Edward.”

“Spaghetti?”

“No.”

“Spag-eds?”

“Even worse.”

“Eds, ya gotta give me _somethin’_ to work with.”

“Don’t call me Eds.”

_How the fuck did he come up with all these? It’s been what, twenty seven years? WAIT-_

“You’re thinking again aren’t you?” Richie grinned.

“What? Maybe I was, but why the fuck do you know that?” Eddie kept up the false hostility, it was admittedly fun with Richie around. 

“Your whole face scrunches up,” Richie reaches and squishes up Eddie’s cheeks, “It’s angry Spaghetti hours!”

“Shhh! Shut up, shut the fuck up,” Eddie pushed his finger to Richie’s lips, “I’ve just had goddamn memory rush!”

Richie didn’t speak, but nodded excitedly, and Eddie noticed that Richie made no effort to remove the finger from his lips. 

“Okay, so what I got is that it’s been twenty seven years since I’ve last seen you. And the others, which I also still don’t _really_ know who they are. And we’ve been best friends from age… five?”

“God Eds, you’re already gettin a lot back!” Richie finally pulled Eddie’s wrist from his mouth to respond.

Eddie felt proud of himself, remembering all this shit he did. He wasn’t positive on the topic of his other friends yet but hey, progress!

A shuffle of feet was heard from the door to the room, “Mr. Tozier?”

Richie immediately turned his head, but kept his body rooted to the spot, “Yeah that’s me.”

The nurse smiled, “I’ll need to ask a few questions, seeing Mr. Kaspbrak’s current state.”

“Oh-uh yeah okay!” Richie stood up and looked to Eddie, “Don’t stay out too late, curfews at ten.”

Eddie flipped the gangly man off as he blew an obnoxious air kiss his way. He exited the room with a shockingly serious demeanor.

_Never thought I’d see the day…_

* * *

Richie was nervous. This nice nurse man was going to tell him Eddie was dying, and Richie was going to flip. That was it. That’s the only idea his dumbass head could drum up. God he’s stupid.

“You’re one of Mr. Kaspbrak’s good friends, correct?” The nurse asked.

“Yep, I've known the guy since age five.” Richie felt a rush of joy when he said that.

_Damn, I get to do it all again…_

“Awe that’s lovely! Oh sorry, I must ask, does he have any relatives or a significant other in the Derry area?” The nurse questioned.

Richie felt his heart drop, Eddie had Myra… his _wife_ . His wife who was the clone of his mother. His wife who caused Eddie to desperately beg _at_ Richie to not go back to her. His wife who if he sent Eddie back too, would just restart this horrible cycle Eddie was trapped in all over again

“His mom passed a while ago,” Richie sighed, “And his wife lives in New York. But… I don’t think we should call her back yet…”

“Oh? Why is that?”

Richie bit the inside of his cheek, “Eddie was talking to me, _begging_ me in a way actually. He repeated over and over that he couldn’t go back to her.”

Richie explained the basic details of Mrs. K’s wrath and to a lesser extent Myra. He didn’t know much about the second woman, but he’d be damned if he didn’t at least tell what he did know.

“I see,” the nurse looked contemplative, “Is there any chance you live here in Derry?”

Richie shuddered at the thought, “Nope, I live out in LA. Me and Eddie’s old friend group had a little home town meetup.”

“Would any of them happen to live in the area?”

“Mike does, I think he’s planning to move real soon though.”

“I won’t dig more into that at this time, however, I do have some _vital_ information on Eddie’s current condition.” 

_Fuck he’s gone. I’m gonna lose him. Shit, the dead lights still found a way to fucking get him. Fuck fuck fuck-_

“Mr. Kaspbrak is stable sir! I’m sorry I worried you,” the nurse said, likely in response to Richie’s “oh fuck” face, “It simply pertains to his memory.”

Richie nodded, deciding it better not to speak while getting this shit told to him.

“He will regain his memory naturally, attempting to bring it back through force feeding him information will overwhelm him. And considering what you previously stated, that would rapidly deteriorate his mental health. And possibly cause an anxiety induced panic attack, and it could evolve into a stress based heart attack.”

Richie was pretty sure _he_ was the one about to have the heart attack. How the _fuck_ was he going to handle this? He couldn’t just tell Eddie everything that happened because his heart might explode. And he couldn’t just take Eddie and leave because the guy had near no recollection of his life.

“Fortunately, he should be alright if he is monitored… which is where I must circle back to your friend who lives here.”

“Mike?” Richie questioned, “Pretty sure the guys planning to get the hell outta dodge by the end of the week.”

The nurse frowned, “Is there a way you could convince him to stay? Watch over Mr. Kaspbrak for a week or so before we check his progress?”

“I guess I could ask to stay behind a lil bit longer, crash at his with Eds for a bit…” 

The nurse looked as if something had clicked, “Oh! Are you friends with Mike Hanlon? The librarian?”

“Oh uh yeah!”

“Ah yes! I’m positive he’ll allow you to use his place for a little. He’s a very nice man, and Mr. Kaspbrak won’t need to be kept in Derry much longer than a week.”

Richie knew that this was good news. He knew that Eddie was healed from getting fatally impaled by a spider clown’s claw. He knew that Eddie’s memories of his younger days with the Losers would come back. But he also knew that Eddie would remember the horrors they’ve been exposed to. The constant looming watch of his mother, and now his wife.

_I’m not letting him suffer again…_

* * *

Eddie had been staring at the ceiling for _way_ too long. Richie said he’d be back in a minute, and he was getting bored of not having someone to talk to. Even if that someone was an obnoxious little snot who was way too cocky for his own good. 

Eddie had decided that the ceiling was now even more boring than before, and looked to his bedside table.

_A ring? What the hell… am I? No… couldn’t be, I’ve never come out! Wait… WAIT. IM GAY!_

Eddie felt like the world fell down around him. Was this what it was like the first time? Was this the shit that kid Eddie had to feel? In a world where being gay was looked down upon as being wrong and disgusting, he had to hide it. But it was 2015 now, gay marriage was legalized nationwide. The world was more accepting of his sexuality now, it wasn’t as sheltered and ruthless as it was in Derry of 1988.

But still, that didn’t change the fact that Eddie had been petrified of himself because of it. He would never in his right mind have told anyone he was gay. Least of all _marry_ another man when he was too afraid to even be seen brushing shoulders with one!

It was in this flurry of feelings and the like that Richie reentered the room. And Eddie felt his heart fly out of his chest… it was him. _He_ was the one that Eddie fell for. _He_ was the one who could make him feel brave in Eddie’s darkest moments. It was _him_ , it was _Richie…_

“Okay so, I got some good news and some bad news!” Richie smiled weakly, “Which one first?”

Eddie sighed, “Bad.”

Richie slumped back into the chair still pulled up to Eddie’s bedside, “So basically, you won’t be ready to leave Derry for at least another week…”

“That’s fair, I think…”

“Yeah, they figured that sending you back with an empty head to the goddamn concrete jungle might be a dumb idea.” Richie deadpanned.

Eddie almost laughed, but he’d never admit that to Richie, “Concrete jungle? I live in New York?”

“Yep, heart of the city my dear Edward,” Richie took up his earlier position on the bed’s rail once more, “Don’t understand why though, smells like shit and pollution.”

“Oh yeah? And where do you live huh numbnuts?” Eddie shoots back, even if he knows that Richies right. 

“LA dumbfuck,” Richie waves his hand in a rainbow shape, “Where weed is smoked and celebrity career’s choke!”

Eddie saw Richie jump a little when his phone dinged in his pocket. He dug it out with an apologetic glance, then cursed somewhat silently.

“What?” Eddie asked, watching how Richies’s fingered moved in practiced way on his phone. 

“Gotta tweet something so my fans don’t think their funny man died in Derry…” Richie grumbled.

_Funny man? Fans? Hard to believe this asshat’s a comedian now, doesn’t even write his own shit. Oh fuck-_

“You’re a comedian!” Eddie exclaimed, causing Richie to fumble the phone in his hands.

The bespectacled man looked on at Eddie with shining eyes, “You… you remember that?”

“Yeah, you don’t write your own shit. I can tell, that bs about a girlfriend? No way in hell someone would date you.” Eddie smirked, earning a playful punch in the arm.

Richie smirked right back, “Wouldn’t be so sure ‘bout that one Eds, if all things go well tomorrow, I’ll be your dad by next month.”

“You fucking asshole!” Eddie wanted to strangle Richie. Wrestle him until they both were breathless. Make his squirm with the most intense tickle fight the two of them had ever had. Eddie might be an adult now, but Richie will never not bring out the child within, “You know my moms dead!”

“Yes, and your point is?” Richies grin was all too proud for the level of comedy he was achieving. 

_Your mom jokes? Really?_ _Maybe that’s why you have writers…_

Eddie waved Richie closer, “Can I check something? News or some shit? I have no idea what’s going on in the world right now.”

Richie seemed to think on it for a moment before he nodded, handing the phone to Eddie.

While Eddie _did_ in fact want to know what the world was like at the moment, he also wanted to investigate Richie’s Twitter. See what the hell he had to say that was _so_ important.

After a second of the app starting up Eddie was met with a profile for Richie. 

_Richie “Trashmouth” Tozier. @trashman_inc. Of course it’s something stupid._

The profile picture was one of Richie squatting in front of a bush. His shirt was basically blending in with it. Sunglasses around the same size as his regular ones were falling down his face. Hair strewn in various directions, socks mismatched, and a clear stain of _god knows what_ visible on his grey shorts. 

“Your profile picture sucks ass,” Eddie commented, “I could do better, and I don’t even have social media!”

Richie feigned being offended, “Why Eduardo! You wound me with your words of slander!”

Eddie tried to make an unimpressed face but it more or less failed due to Richie’s smile growing wider, “Shut the fuck up. I see that whole voice thing never left?”

“Nope! Now I get paid for being an insufferable brat.” Richie leaned into the hospital chair.

“Speaking of, how the fuck did you get out of your tour?”

Richie closed his eyes, his head facing towards the ceiling, “First things first, how the fuck did you know I was on tour. Second things second, it was the last city I had, we did a Cali only tour. You know, to rev up to some more bigger shit.”

“One, it’s your pinned tweet idiot,” Eddie gestured to the phone, “Two, what the _fuck_ does “Spaghetti and me havin a hospital date, so romantic!” mean?”

Richie laughed, “Just telling them how your little Spa-geds head is doing… figured I should say why the show ended prematurely. So I’ve been updating to keep people entertained and not down my neck.”

Eddie shrugged, passing the phone back to Richie, “What’s the good news you had?”

“Oh shit right!” Richie looked like he’d been spaced out the whole time, “So the good news is that Mike is letting us crash at his place here in buttfuck nowhere. He’s gonna be on a trip to Florida for a week to get a place there.”

“Us?”

“Yep! Gotta keep an eye on ya while you recover!”

“But, what about…” Eddie picked up his ring on this side table. It glimmered in the space between the two, but it brought no joy to either party.

Richie nodded, his head angled towards the floor afterwards, “Yeah, you got hitched bud. Myra, you’ve been married 10 years I think…”

_He looks so sad… does he- no no no- he isn’t… is he? Wait, I'm married to a woman? Named Myra… oh god no! No no no no NO NO-_

Eddie felt short of breath, the ring in his palm looked like it could burn through his hand. And quite frankly, you’d be pretty sure it was seeing how quickly Eddie threw the ring away from him. He distantly heard it clang against the tiled floor. The baritone voice of Richie was creeping up from somewhere, but it wasn’t more than a muffled gargle.

“Eddie! EDDIE!” Richie had taken to squeezing the man's hand in both of his own. Hoping that whatever he was doing was helping. Begging a deity he didn’t believe in, that Eddie was okay.

Eddie finally began to feel the warmth of Richie’s hands on his own at the right.

“Rich… I can’t- I can’t go back to-to-to her...” Eddie’s voice was shaking, “She’s just my mom… I can’t do that again Rich! I can’t _do_ that again!”

Richie started to calmly drift his thumb over Eddie’s palm, “Hey, hey, hey! It’s okay, you’ll be alright… you don’t gotta go back to her man.”

Eddie was still stressed beyond belief, he had just remembered his mother, his wife, and his supposed constant illness. The memory of being told he was weak, sick, helpless. He hated it, it was the fucking worst. How did he marry Myra? _Why_ did he marry Myra?

He felt bad for keeping her in a marriage he couldn’t contribute to. He quite literally could not feel anything for her. But, he supposes that’s what the closet does for a person. Then again, marrying the incarnate of your own overly doting mother might be a mistake in the first place.

Eddie simply gripped his friends hand, twining their fingers, “Fuck… remembering shit sucks ass...”

“You’ll have more fucked shit come up, and I hate to say it but it’s true,” Richie sighed, “Derry is _fucked_ man.”

“You’re not… leaving, right?” Eddie looked into the bright blue eyes in front of him, searching for an answer.

“Hell no Eds,” Richie gave a sad smile, “You’re stuck with me for the long run.”

_Not exactly the worst person to be stuck with..._


End file.
